


The "H" Word

by onceahuskyalwaysahusky



Category: Glee
Genre: Comedy, Gen, Season 3, furt, hudmel brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 10:56:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4916878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onceahuskyalwaysahusky/pseuds/onceahuskyalwaysahusky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or "Why Finn Hudson Was Always Nervous During American Lit".  When the 2012 McKinley High yearbooks come out, they threaten to reveal Finn's most carefully guarded secret.  Now, the Hudson-Hummel brothers―with able assistance from Blaine―must scramble to save Finn from total humiliation. A Furt brothers fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The "H" Word

"Azimio Adams..."

Finn Hudson moved one step closer to his doom, wondering if there was still time to run. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to do this.  _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_ his brain facepalmed him.  _Why didn't you play sick this morning and stay the fuck in bed?_

 _Because you woulda hurt Mom, you big baby!_ a voice in his head jeered. It was the voice that always made him do the things he didn't want to do but knew he had to do because they were right things to do. (Someone other than Finn would have called it his conscience.)  _She's been totally looking forward to this for years. You owe it to her. So man up, dickwad!_

Another name was called. As Finn took another step forward, he wondered how his life had gone spiraling out of control in three short weeks.

It had all started with the yearbooks...

 

* * *

 

  _Three weeks earlier, Finn had been sitting in study hall, playing table football with Puck. Study hall was a joke that day; old Mrs. Masella was ignoring everything as she flipped though a copy of_ Soldier of Fortune  _with her hearing aid turned off._

_Everyone was carrying on about the stupid yearbooks, which had been passed out in homeroom. Finn's lay on the table, ignored under his battered Yu-Gi-Oh! binder. (Hey, don't judge; his mom had bought it for him in the fifth grade at the dollar store when money was tight. And that was the year he'd gotten A's in Math and English for the first―and last―time, so he thought it was lucky.)_

_Finn was about to flick the folded paper triangle through the goal posts formed by Puck's fingers for the extra point when a familiar voice behind him called, "Hey, Finn..."_

_Finn turned around. Blaine was looking down at him, smiling cheerfully. He was holding a yearbook, with one finger folded inside it like a bookmark. "What's the 'H' stand for?"_

_Behind Blaine stood Kurt, vigorously shaking his head and giving Finn a wide-eyed "this-is-_ so _-not-my-fault" look._

 _"I asked Kurt, but he says he doesn't know," Blaine said, playfully glaring at Kurt with mock-suspicion. If Blaine had looked three seconds earlier, he would have caught his boyfriend frantically mouthing_ I didn't say anything! _to his clueless step-brother. But Kurt had quickly composed himself and was now smiling innocently._

_Finn's forehead creased in confusion. "Dude, what are you talking about?"_

_"This." Blaine held out his copy of the 2012 McKinley_ Thunderclap _and opened it to the page he'd been saving. And there, between Davy Hortenbach and Kurt Hummel, was Finn's not-as-bad-as-he'd-thought senior picture. And printed under it was—OH, SHIT!_

**_H. Finn Hudson_ **

_A horrified Finn gasped so intensely he began to choke..._

 

* * *

 

"Rachel Barbra Berry..."

Finn looked up and smiled. The anxiety gnawing at his stomach subsided as he watched Rachel mount the steps and stride across the stage, the red polyester gown swirling around her gorgeous legs. She smiled radiantly as she approached the podium.  _God, she's so beautiful..._

Finn was distracted by a sudden commotion in the audience. Rachel's two dads, along with Burt and Carole Hummel, were on their feet applauding. Burt stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly. Mom was smiling and supporting Hiram, who looked all choked up and weepy (or  _"verklempt",_ as Rachel would say) while LeRoy, grinning like a proud idiot, followed his daughter with the video camera.

When Finn turned back, Rachel had already received her diploma. She winked at him, then primly moved the tassel hanging from her mortarboard from the right side to the left...

 

* * *

 

  _Before Blaine's interruption, Finn's forefinger had been poised to "kick" the paper football. As he broke out coughing, he smacked it with enough force to send it hurtling straight into Puck's right eye. "Owww! What the hell, Hudson! You tryin' to blind me or somethin'?"_

_Finn didn't even register he'd moved his finger. Or that he'd been hollered at. Or that Blaine was pounding him on the back to stop the coughing jag._

H. Finn Hudson. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

_Kurt knew all too well what had caused Finn to react that way. He also knew he had to get his step-brother out of that room. "Everything's fine! Finn just...swallowed a fly!" he improvised._

_Kurt jerked Finn out of his seat. "We're just going to get some water! Be right back!" he sing-songed to Mrs. Masella, who had turned her hearing aid back on when she'd finally noticed the ruckus. And, with everyone watching, Kurt propelled the gasping teen out into the hall._

_Blaine's brows knitted together as he exchanged glances with Puck―at least, with Puck's one good eye. "Did_ you _see a fly...?"_

_Kurt took Finn to the perennially unused astronomy classroom. Sitting with his head between his knees, Finn was beginning to breathe normally again._

_After all the crap he'd taken in kindergarten, Finn had managed to keep his_ real  _first name secret for twelve years. And now, just three weeks before graduation, everything was all fucked up. Some nerd on the yearbook staff had even made Finn check the proofs of his page for any mistakes; how the hell could he've missed it?_

 _Then he remembered. That had been the day Rachel wore_ that  _sweater. The one that made her boobs look―_

_"Oh, man..." Finn croaked. "What am I gonna do...?"_

_Finn sounded miserable and Kurt's heart flopped. Kurt had discovered Finn's secret shortly after their parents had gotten married. He'd been helping Carole transfer her important papers to the safe at Dad's shop _―_ and just happened to see Finn's birth certificate._

_Normally, something like that would've made for many hours of prime teasing in the Hudson-Hummel home. But in this case, Kurt understood the importance of anything and everything which honored a dead parent._

_Even a monumentally embarrassing first name._

_"Never fear, H. Finn Hudson. We are going to handle this. Together." He paused before asking, "Does Rachel...?"_

_Finn snorted, "No way, dude."_

_"Well, she and Blaine are the most well-read of our little group; they could be trouble." He thought for a moment. "After school, we'll come up a plausible explanation that will satisfy everyone. Between my glib tongue and your gift for rambling, we should be able to make this all go away."_

_"Yeah?" Finn looked up at him with a hopeful puppy expression._

_Kurt rolled his eyes. "You're lucky half our friends are so self-absorbed, they're oblivious. And that the other half have the attention span of an addled gnat. Just the same, maybe we should bring a shiny object to distract them if necessary..."_

_Finn cracked a smile. "I only understood half of what you said, but it sure sounded good..."_

 

* * *

 

 "Michael Robert Chang, Junior..."

Finn watched Mike cross the stage to the podium; he looked as calm and composed as Finn wanted to be.

After the handshake, Mike looked out into the audience. He must've seen Tina, because he suddenly winked. Then, with a mischievous gleam in his eye, he broke into an impromptu routine, dancing off the stage with his trademarked rubbery grace. The crowd responded with enthusiastic applause.

Finn thought about asking Mike to come up on stage with him when his turn came. To distract the audience...

 

* * *

 

_That afternoon, Finn arrived in the choir room for Glee practice._

_Kurt was nowhere in sight. And everyone but Puck was leafing through their yearbooks. Shit._

_He was barely able to sit down before the interrogation began._ _Sam straddled the chair next to him and crooned, "Sooo, 'H. Finn'..." with a smart-ass grin on his face._

 _Finn stomach lurched._ Shit...

_Rachel's eyes flashed with indignation. "Finn, I am deeply, deeply wounded by the fact that my beloved husband-to-be has apparently been keeping secrets from me. I cannot believe that during the course of our on-again off-again relationship over the past three years, you've never felt the need to share this one little detail with me."_

_As Finn squirmed, Rachel crossed her arms and fixed him with a withering glare. "If I am to become 'Mrs. H. Finn Hudson' in the near future, at the risk of suffering career-damaging embarrassment, I insist on knowing what that 'H' stands for!" she demanded._

_Finn opened his mouth, but no sound came out._

_"Ooooh, it's gotta be something_ real _bad," Mercedes teased._

 _"The way he likes doughnuts, I'll bet it's 'Homer'," Sam laughed, poking Finn in his nonexistent gut while delivering a pretty good impression of a certain_ Simpsons'  _character:_ _"D'oh! Why you little...!"_

_Santana rolled her eyes. "Puh-lease! Mommy Hudson probably knew in advance that Baby Beluga here would be too dumb to walk and chew gum at the same time," she snarked, "so she named him 'Hudson Hudson' just to make it easier for him."_

_Puck suddenly snapped his fingers. "Wait a minute," he said slowly. "Way back, like in kindergarten, we_ did _call you somethin' else...uhhm..."_

_The color drained out of Finn's face. He started to seriously freak out. Where the hell was Kurt?_

_The whole room looked at Puck expectantly. "What the hell was it?" he muttered, knocking himself on the head with his fist, as if trying to jar the memory loose. "Um. Nope...don't remember..."_

_Finn started to breathe again. He thanked God for the steroids. Or the huffing. Or whichever of Puck's many vices had caused his memory lapse._

_Then the kids just started throwing out names at random._

_"Hansel," Artie suggested._

_"Hubbell?" Rachel asked hopefully, thinking of her second favorite Streisand film._

_"Bob." This was from Brittany._

_Just when Finn was wondering what a stroke felt like (because he was pretty sure he was having one), Kurt entered the room with Mr. Schue and Coach Sylvester. Kurt was refusing yet another of Sue's insane demands that he appear at Nationals in drag as "Porcelina"._

_When he saw Finn in the middle of a mob with that drowning-man expression on his face, Kurt quickly put two and two together. Eyes blazing, he was about to throw the bitch-fit to end all bitch-fits when Sue's voice rang out. "Attention, you pack of untalented howler monkeys! Nationals are in twelve days. Now unless we want a repeat of last year's humiliating failure, I suggest you get your cans into the auditorium and start rehearsing."_

_She fixed Finn and Rachel with a glare. "You. Sonny and Cher. Get within kissing distance of each other and I will_ not _hesitate to turn the fire hose on you. We will not lose again due to an ill-timed—and frankly amateurish—lip-lock."_

_Speechless, the Glee kids filed out of the choir room. Relieved, Kurt clapped Finn on the back. The brothers had never thought the day would come when they would be glad to see Sue Sylvester..._

 

* * *

 

 "Lucille Quinn Fabray..."

After a haughty eye-roll at hearing her full name, Quinn marched across the stage. As Finn watched his ex-girlfriend, he reflected that, after all the drama in her life (a teen pregnancy and adoption, the divorce of her parents, four breakups and, most importantly, the after effects of the accident), she was still proud and so strong.

Considering all she'd been through, Finn could certainly live through what was coming.

Couldn't he...?

 

* * *

 

_The next day was Saturday. With Nationals less than two weeks away, Coach Sylvester had scheduled a mandatory all-day rehearsal. So Finn hauled himself out of bed at the insane hour of seven o'clock in the morning and drove to school in a mental fog. Yesterday's problem seemed very far away as he tried to revive himself with black coffee and four chocolate chip scones._

_Stepping into The April Rhodes Civic Pavilion at McKinley, Finn thought he heard the sound of angry shouting―not exactly an uncommon occurrence at a Glee rehearsal._

_"Bollocks! At least be man enough to admit ya snogged her, ya bloody bastard!"_

_Was that...Rory?_

_Finn stared at the commotion up on stage, where the usually chipper Rory Flanagan stood, red-faced and screaming with rage._ _Sam was struggling to hold onto the exchange student as he tried to hurl himself across the stage at...Puck?_

_"Get off me, Sam!" Rory was definitely stronger than he looked and Joe Hart stepped up to help Sam. Finn could hear him asking Rory to ask himself what would Jesus do. Rory almost broke free, shouting, "Jesus would beat the tar out of the wanker for touchin' his girlfriend!"_

_Puck was watching the angry Irish boy, flanked by Mike and Artie (who looked ready to restrain him, if necessary). Off to the side stood the girlfriend in question, Sugar Motta, who was looking more dazed than usual as she glanced back and forth between the two boys._

_"Will someone tell Mr. Lord-of-the-Dance I don't know what the hell he's talking about!" Puck growled. "No way would the Puckasaurus ever try 'n tap Miss Mafia Princess here _―_ too high maintenance!"_

_Blaine was standing between Rory and Puck, calmly trying to smooth things over. At least, that what it_ looked _like. But, with the way he was talking to Rory about_ not _blaming Sugar if she'd found Puck's animal magnetism (and/or his impressive guns) irresistible or something, Finn thought he was making matters worse. On purpose._

_Especially after Blaine caught Finn's eye and gave him a sly wink._

_Suddenly, Finn found himself pulled backstage by Kurt. "Du-ude, what the hell _―_?"_

_"Shhhh!" Kurt whispered. "It's a diversionary tactic!"_

_"Say what?"_

_"We needed a distraction. I must've gotten at least twenty texts last night_ _―_ about your name _." Waving his hand at all the drama, Kurt asked, "Look. Is anyone paying attention to you now?"_

_"What did you do?"_

_"Let's just say an anonymous source logged on to Jacob ben Israel's heinous Glee Club blog and spilled how 'Glee's resident Sex-Shark has recently been seen munching on a Rich Sugary Treat unbeknownst to her Magically Delicious Boy Toy.' It was Blaine's idea."_

_Finn was saying, "Oh, boy..." when he was cut off by a sudden shout of pain._

_"Owww! Lord God Mother Joseph Jesus...!"_

_Finn peered around the curtain. It looked like Sam needed help again―since Rory, in a rather un-Christian move, had just stomped on Teen Jesus's bare feet. And, since Rory kind of looked up to him like a big brother, Finn guessed it was up to him to—_

_But before he'd gone five steps, Finn stopped and turned. "Wait a minute._ _ _Blaine's__ _idea? Why is_ Blaine _having ideas about this, Kurt?" he asked dangerously._

_Kurt couldn't look him in the eye._

_"Jeez," Finn whined, "you told him?"_

_"We can use the help, Finn!" Kurt hissed back._

_"I thought all we needed was your squid's tongue!" Finn accused._

_"That's 'glib' tongue, you big lummox! And I can't help it if Blaine's tongue is more talented..." Kurt stopped, a flush creeping up his face. Then his hand moved to cover a rather prominent mark on his Adam's apple._

_Finn had to think for a few seconds before he got it. "That's just great, Kurt," he huffed. "Blaine sticks his tongue down your throat and you cave?"_

_Kurt was suddenly interested in studying the buttons on his sleeve cuff. "He can be very...persuasive."_

_Finn wrinkled his nose. "Dude, it was just your throat, right...?"_

 

* * *

 

 "Michael Anthony Gruttadauria..."

Finn moved another step forward, wondering if this is how those kids felt in that  _Hunger Games_ movie Rachel had dragged him to in April...

 

* * *

 

_That evening, Kurt was performing his nightly skin-cleansing ritual while he and Blaine plotted their next diversion over Skype. (Blaine proposed leaking that one of the Glee guys had taken Sue Sylvester up on her offer and was her mysterious "celebrity donor".) Then Kurt heard Finn clomping up the stairs; he'd been out tonight with Rachel._

_There was a knock at his door._ "Entrez-vous." _When there was no response, he rolled his eyes and sighed. "That means 'come in', Finn!"_

 _Finn pushed the door open and flopped down on the bed. After a minute, he raised his head and_ _gave Kurt a sheepish look. "Uh, dude...Rachel knows..."_

_Kurt tried to hide his smirk. He couldn't help but notice Finn's rumpled hair and swollen lips _―_ not to mention the huge hickey on his neck. "Talented tongue?"_

_Finn gave him a lopsided smile. "Ohhh, yeah..."_

_"Uhhh..." On the monitor, Blaine's expression was pained. "Do I even want to know what you guys are talking about?"_

 

* * *

 

 "Melissa Sue Gunderson..."

Another step, and he wished someone would offer him a blindfold, like in those movies when dudes faced a firing squad...

 

* * *

 

  _Finally, his mom came with him to the principal's office; Finn felt like a major tool._

_"Mrs. Hudson-Hummel, while I have sympathized with this particular situation in the past, the matter is out of my hands," Principal Figgins was saying. "The law states that the diploma must contain the student's full and legal name." Then he scowled, "And we certainly cannot spare the money to reprint it if we could." His fingers were poised over his ever-present adding machine to give her the exact cost if she asked._

_Carole took a deep breath and smiled. "We understand that, but all we're asking is that when you call his name at the ceremony, please just say 'Finn Hudson' and nothing more."_

_Though Finn remained mute, he nodded enthusiastically._

_Figgins chewed the inside of his mouth as he considered her request. "Well, we certainly do not want to see young Mr. Hudson suffer any further embarrassment on his final day at McKinley." He jotted something down on a pad. "I will make certain that the list I will be reading from will contain the appropriate name."_

_Finn breathed a sigh of relief. He leaped to his feet and shook Figgins' hand._

_Everything was going to be okay..._

 

* * *

 

"Enriqué Gustav Hernandez..."

One more name and it would be his turn. Finn sighed.

Then he felt a reassuring hand on his arm. He looked over his shoulder to where Kurt was standing behind him and giving him a sympathetic smile. It kind of made him feel better, knowing his brother literally had his back.

Glancing up at the stage, he exchanged looks with Mr. Schue, who was sitting with the rest of the faculty. He was grinning like a proud father and gave Finn a big thumbs-up.

He could do this...

 

* * *

 

 _For the last few weeks everything_ was _okay. The Glee kids were so caught up in rehearsals that no one had time to remember anything about "H. Finn". Then came the trip to Chicago and Nationals, where New Directions kicked some serious ass. After their mind-blowing win, Finn was on top of the world._

_It wasn't until graduation day itself that everything came crashing down._

_That Sunday, the seniors gathered at the auditorium for the ceremony. As Ms. Pillsbury started lining everyone up in alphabetical order, there was the blare of a megaphone siren, then a familiar abrasive voice boomed: "Attention, Class of 2012..."_

_Finn glanced up at the stage. Standing there, in a black tracksuit-inspired academic robe with gold racing stripes running down the sleeves, was Coach Sylvester, megaphone raised to her mouth._

_"Despite the fact that you are the most pathetic band of undereducated slackers to ever drag their knuckles through the halls of McKinley, today you will receive your diplomas and pass through those doors into the world with the same dignity of a chipmunk passing through a wood-chipper._

_"After sampling some questionable potato salad at his church's Saturday Night Bible-Study-slash-Casino-Night, Prinicipal Figgins will not be officiating at this ceremony as he has contracted salmonella. As stated in my contract, I, Sue Sylvester, am once again principal_ pro tem. _"_

_A murmur ran through the crowd. Finn overheard Will Schuester mutter, "One day, I'd like to get a look at that contract," to Emma Pillsbury._

_Little Becky Jackson scurried up to Sue, offering Figgins' list of graduates' names. "Here's the list with these losers' names, Coach!"_

_Sue recoiled. "Jackson, that paper reeks of Drakkar Noir and Chicken Jalfrezi. Take it away before I wax the floor with my morning prenatal protein shake."_

_"Roger that!"_

_Finn watched helplessly as Becky balled up the offending piece of paper. His shoulders slumped in defeat. Now Sue would_ have _to read the graduates' names off the diplomas themselves. He was so fucked._

_Kurt had been helping Rachel with her cap. They exchanged worried glances, then they both turned to Finn. The bobby pins sticking out of Kurt's mouth sagged as he met Finn's hopeless gaze..._

 

* * *

 

"David Leonard Hortenbach..."

Finn now stood at the foot of the steps. He was next. He took a deep breath. Then another.

Then he was hyperventilating.

Kurt was standing next to him and Finn felt Kurt's hand wrap around his own. "You can do this..." he whispered.

Finn looked up at the podium as Sue Sylvester took the next scroll from the table. This was it. She looked at the name and hesitated for a second. Her mouth seemed to open in slow motion as Finn squeezed his eyes shut and prayed. _Please, God, please don't let her say it, please please pleaseplease―"_

"Finn Hudson..."

Behind him, he heard Kurt's sharp intake of breath. Finn grinned crazily; he'd just dodged the ultimate slushie of his high school career.

He mounted the stage, stepping up to Sue Sylvester. She regarded him with an inscrutable expression. In a voice only Finn could hear, she said, "Congratulations, Lurch." After handing him his diploma, she rested her hands on her abdomen as she continued, "You can thank my raging pregnancy hormones for this unexpected and certainly undeserved act of compassion. If you weren't of age, I'd be obligated to call child welfare for this unforgivable act of cruelty perpetrated by your parents." Then, giving him something that could be mistaken for a smile, she deadpanned, "Now get the hell off my stage."

With that, Huckleberry Finn Hudson, named for his late father's favorite character in literature, gratefully shook the coach's hand and got the hell off that stage.

 

* * *

 

The next weekend, Congressman and Mrs. Burt Hummel were away attending a cocktail fund-raiser at the Governor's mansion. The New Directions kids took advantage of their absence and gathered in the Hudson-Hummel backyard for a little unchaperoned post-graduation cookout.

Standing on the deck, Finn took a break from flipping burgers and stepped back from the grill to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Behind him, Kurt was reclined on a lounge chair, a huge umbrella and some imported Scandinavian sunscreen protecting his porcelain perfect skin.

Finn looked out over the lawn. Puck, Rachel, Sam and Mike were currently involved in a death-match volleyball game with Kurt and Blaine's Warbler friends Jeff, Nick, Thad and Trent, who'd driven up from Westerville for the party. For reasons they refused to reveal, the Warblers were all stuck at Dalton Academy for the summer session―even Thad, who'd just graduated.

Manning Burt's tiki bar, Blaine was mixing a batch of Long Island Ice Teas with the booze Puck had provided; he was hoping to loosen his former schoolmates' tongues and find out what they'd done to sentence themselves to summer-school hell.

He poured three drinks and walked over to Finn and Kurt. "Gentlemen, a toast," he said, handing each boy a cup. "To the best kept secret in New Directions' history."

"You mean the  _only_  kept secret in New Directions' history," Kurt corrected as he peered over the top of his sunglasses at his boyfriend.

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Whatever." He hoisted his cup and toasted in a whisper. "And to Huckleberry Finn Hudson for dodging that bullet." The three boys drank.

Turning back to the game, Finn watched Rachel gracefully set up Puck, who then spiked the ball over the net for the kill―right between Nick and Jeff's diving bodies―to score the winning point. As Sam and Mike double high-fived each other, Puck swept Rachel off her feet and spun her around.

Grinning, Finn stepped to the edge of the deck and shouted, "Yo, Puckerman! Stop groping my woman!"

"Screw 'Finchel'!" Puck declared before planting a wet kiss on Rachel's cheek. "Fear the power of 'Puckleberry', Finn Hudson!"

Even as Finn laughed, he felt the skin crawl on the back of his neck.  _Uh-oh._

This time, Puck's brain made the connection. He flashed back to kindergarten—and the antics of two rambunctious five-year-olds named Huck and Puck. He was so surprised, he almost dropped Rachel.

Finn swore he could almost see the cartoon light bulb going on over Puck's head. With a smirking expression on his face, he managed to blurt _"That's_  it! Huckleb—" before Rachel could clap her hand over his mouth.

She was too late. The same expression appeared on Santana's face. Then Artie's. Then Quinn's. Then Sam's.

Finn felt like he was trapped in one of those creepy pod-people body-snatcher movies when, in unison, all the McKinley kids (except Brittany, who was too busy building a castle out of Jell-O cubes for the cricket that read her bedtime stories) turned to look at him with the same evil smile on their faces. The four Dalton boys looked around, wondering what the hell was going on.

"'Huckleberry', Finn? _Really?"_ Quinn called out, laughter in her eyes.

"Well, well, well," Santana purred as she sashayed toward Finn, hands on her hips. "Huckleberry Finn Hudson...I couldn't have asked for a better graduation present..." she grinned, baring her teeth.

"Oh,  _shit,"_ Blaine muttered. Then poured himself another drink. He had a feeling he was going to need it. This wasn't going to be pretty...

Kurt pulled the umbrella down to shield himself from the imminent verbal carnage...

Poor Finn stood there frozen in place as his friends slowly approached, wondering if he could beat himself unconscious with the spatula he was still holding before they reached him...

**Author's Note:**

> Poor Finn. 
> 
> This was my first posted fan-fic. It was conceived during "Props" when one of my friends asked "Does Finn's name stand for anything?" That's when it occurred to me that maybe our friend Finn deserved a more colorful first name...
> 
> Even while writing, I knew that this entire tale would become an AU piece as soon as they aired the season 3 finale. Oh well. It was fun.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it. Comments are encouraged. Thanks for reading!


End file.
